Movie: The Cat's Meow. Kirsten Dunst is astonishingly good
in this movie: cast as mistress to William Randolph Hearst and objet de
desire of Charlie Chaplin, she takes a tall role and makes it seem like
the most natural thing in the world. A-

The president says the taint of terrorism that clings to Yasser Arafat
must remove him from consideration as leader of a Palestine state.

The story itself came from Barry Schweid of AP, and starts:

WASHINGTON -- President Bush urged the Palestinians on Monday to
replace Yasser Arafat with leaders "not compromised by terror" and
adopt democratic reforms that could produce an independent state
within three years.

"Peace requires a new and different Palestinian leadership so that a
Palestinian state can be born," Bush said at the White House.

The article goes on with additional quotes, none of which are remotely
as baldfaced as the title. In the title, Bush is made to look like an
imperious thug; in the article (and most likely the actual speech,
which as I understand it nowhere mentions Arafat by name) Bush merely
looks like a patsy for the Israeli right. With this latest move, Bush
has managed to eliminate any chance he might have had to: a) stabilize
the Palestinian issue; and b) secure any credibility with the Arab
states who are critical for controlling anti-American terrorism.

There are many ways to analyze this. For instance:

The only way that the U.S. can function as a peacemaker is by
taking a fair-minded stance independent of both sides. By parroting
Sharon's line, Bush has sided with Israel against the Palestinians,
forfeiting any claim to evenhandedness. Worse, this makes the
U.S. complicit with Israel's occupation.

In attacking Arafat as tainted by terrorism, without commenting on
Sharon's fifty-year reign of violence, Bush is blatantly
hypocritical. Regardless of Arafat's faults, he at least can point to
his past efforts at negotiating peace (including the Nobel Prize he
shared with Rabin and Peres); Sharon has never sought peace except
through the barrel of a gun, and worked mightily to derail the Oslo
accords that marked the only peaceful and hopeful period in Israel's
history. The case that Palestine needs elections to choose new leaders
is if anything weaker than the case that Israel needs to "lose" Sharon.

Given that Bush has so clearly identified himself with Sharon, his
attack on Arafat is certain to bolster Arafat's popularity, while
undermining Arafat's ability to negotiate with Israel. The basic fact
is that you cannot choose your opponent's leaders; you have to deal
with them, like they have to deal with their people.

If Israel wanted peace, the most important thing they could do
would be to promote Palestinian leadership, because they need
Palestinian leaders to sell the deal to the Palestinian people. This
is what Rabin did with Arafat, and it was working up to Rabin's
assassination.

By waffling back and forth on Israel, Bush may wind up with even
less credibility with Arab leaders than he would have had forthrightly
supporting Israel. He's managed to look two-faced here, even if he's
more plausibly just hopelessly confused.

The most disturbing angle is that Bush may have realized that in
order to keep domestic support for his military adventures he has to
keep anti-American terrorism coming.

If the U.S. wanted peace the sensible thing would be to start by
putting pressure on the side that it has the most influence on. This
would in turn show the other side that the U.S. could deliver a fairer
deal than it could obtain on its own. The U.S. can influence Israel,
both through persuasion and pursestrings; the U.S. has no similar
ability to pressure the Palestinians.

One more comment, not directly triggered by this speech/article. In
many of my readings, it's frequently been said that force is the only
language that the Arabs understand. This argument goes back at least
to Jabotinsky, but I think we can now call it Sharon's Folly: clearly,
the one thing that the Arabs do not understand is force. It's
time to try something else.

Big barnraising day. Yesterday we bought a ceiling fan to replace the dead
one in the back room. Last night we noticed that the hot water heater was
spritzing steam, so today we bought a new hot water heater. And today we
got them both installed, thanks to my brother and some friends (with a
pickup truck), who wound up doing most of the work.

I spammed my mail address book with a brief message announcing my email
change. Bcc'ed 67 names; got 8-10 bounces, some of which are disturbing.

Two movies today. Had dinner at Cafe Istanbul, which I still recommend,
even though the menu is short, the bulgur pilaf and pita bread not as
good as last time, and the doner grill is still broken. It's the only
Turkish restaurant in town, only open in the last month of so. Spent
the rest of the day converting email addresses.

Movie: Kandahar. A slight story wrapped in an arduous
travelogue into Taliban-era Afghanistan: one expatriate Afghan woman's
seemingly hopeless journey to Kandahar to try to save her sister. I
have to wonder whether the landscape is to be believed: like Westerns
set in Monument Valley, it's never clear how such barren desert can
support so many people, even if the conditions of their support are
appalling. B

Finished reading Tom Segev's One Palestine, Complete. This
weighed in at 518 pages, whereas Benny Morris covered the same
period in roughly 100 pages. The latter may be worth reviewing
and contrasting at this time.

Movie: The Bourne Identity. If there's an Oscar-worthy
performance here, let's nominate Europe for Best Performance by a
Continent in a Supporting Role. Sunny Côte d'Azur, snowy Switzerland,
both pre- and post-modern Paris, the verdant French countryside, all
are in splendid form. The story itself is warmed over, fantasy on
all counts, but the travelogue is riveting, and the action moves
quick enough to be entertaining. B+

Somewhere in Robert W. Creamer's Stengel: His Life and Times
there is a quote by Casey Stengel on managing. I haven't found it
in three hours of perusing the book, but three minutes on the web
yields:

The secret of managing is to keep the guys who hate you away from
the guys who are undecided.

That's pretty much it, but the one I've been looking for has more,
an explanation of why some players inevitably hate the manager
(they aren't playing as much as they think they should), and why
others are on the fence. It's an observation on managing that's
applicable many other places. In Giles Kepel's Jihad, it's
a recurrent theme: the Islamist-Jihadists are always there, but it's
only when they link up with the street youths and the devout middle
class that they become a real political force. If you look at
terrorism as a management problem, one of the most important
things you can do is to keep the guys who hate you isolated and
marginalized. This is precisely what the Israeli right is worst
at: they assume that all Arabs hate them, act accordingly, and
lo and behold are vindicated.

I did find one little quote in Creamer's book that is incidental
but worth filing away:

Movie: Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood. The
hostility to this movie is hard to fathom -- I would've guessed
that anyone referring to "estrogen overdose" was being ironic,
but it's hard to be sure from the several contexts in which I've
seen this phrase. I found it enjoyable enough, but more as a
clinic in overacting (Maggie Smith wins hands-down there) than
for its story line, which is at once too messy to clearly follow,
yet too simplified to ring true. B

Let's start another record list. At start point the unrated album list
numbers 742.

Africa Raps (2002, Trikont). West African, mostly
in French, rather widely varied, with some exercises formally
following contemporary hip-hop practice, others built around
beguiling native rhythms. The one cut in English signifies,
I dig the French, and what's incomprehensible about the rest
doesn't much matter. A-

Count Basie: Class of '54 (1954, Black Lion).
The eight nonet tracks are a nice interval between the classic
Basie band and its "atomic" successor. The radio shots are a
more mixed bag, with the usual announcer interference. B

Bullfrog (2001, Ropeadope). I have to wonder how many
of these eclectic, funky, easy-listening wonders there are out there
somewhere. Kid Koala's Carpal Tunnel Syndrome is mostly just
sound effects, but on occasion this sounds, well, soulful.
A-

The Byrds: Mr. Tambourine Man (1965, Columbia/Legacy).
Sure, the hits I know, remember even, but I never listened to the
albums until Gram Parsons came and left and they inevitably became
something else. But now, the striking thing about their first album
is how consistent it is, how lovely the pristine (nay, original)
folk-rock sound is. A-

Columbia Country Classics, Vol. 4: The Nashville Sound
(1955-73, Columbia). This series peaked with Vol. 2: Honky Tonk
Heroes. The later volumes are filler, smartly sampling material
that aspires to MOR. Useful if you're interested. B+

Ani DiFranco (1990, Righteous Babe). Back when no one
had heard of her, I got a tape of this in the mail from a mutual
friend. At this stage her guitar was little more than a prop. But
my rule of thumb is that good songwriters will usually become good
musicians, but musicians who can't write out of the gate never will.
DiFranco was a writer first and foremost, and a riveting vocalist
to boot. This one takes more attention than I like to pay, but it's
fascinating and portentous. B+

Dion: King of the New York Streets (1958-99, Capitol,
3CD). He started off as the Eminem of doo-wop, distinctly white and
distinctly hip. During the '60s he mutated into a folkie, if that's
what you'd call a hipper, American Donovan. The first two discs here
document these phases, albeit not as well as their hard-to-find
predecessors. The third disc covers Dion the aging dabbler, and
while it's unremarkable, it's better than you'd expect. B+

DJ Shadow: The Private Press (2002, MCA).
A

Bob Dorough: Right on My Way Home (1997, Blue Note).
An aging hipster; like ye olde masters of vocalese, he tends to
flip and flop too much on the slippery slopes of be-bop, but the
straighter material keeps his cleverness in check, and the band
is superb. B+

Eminem: The Eminem Show (2002, Aftermath). Having
shot his concept on two LPs of amazingly over-the-top schtick,
this one is a modest retrenching: most songs flow compellingly,
but the persona has thinned out to one beleaguered superstar.
B+

The Flatlanders: Now Again (2002, New West). Jimmie
Dale Gilmore is such a great singer it's a shame for him to have
to share vocals, even though Joe Ely (if not Butch Hancock) can
more than hold his own. In theory, what would make a Flatlanders
reunion more than a marketing ploy would be a passel of great new
Hancock songs. But I don't think these quite hack it. B+

Future World Funk: Further Adventures in Afro, Funk, Dub and
Future World Beats (2000, Ocho). A/k/a vol. 2, although
that's nowhere stated on the cover. I haven't heard the other vols.,
which makes me a bit uncomfortable rating this one, but I've played
it a couple dozen times: Snowboy's "Descarga Angixi" always grabs
me, and almost everything else cuts an engaging groove. I guess
the reggae isn't world class, but this feels like the future: a
convergence of all the world's beats. A-

Dave Holland Quintet: Prime Directive (2000, ECM).
We all know he's a great bassist, but as with all bassists (except
Mingus, that is) it's the front line you hear first. This one is,
well, proficient -- Chris Potter, Robin Eubanks, Steve Nelson,
good players all. Sounds like a recipe for a solid B/B+, but the
composition sneaks up on you here, the variety of its pleasures,
the ease and sureness of its execution. Great bassist, too. A-

Freddie Hubbard: Open Sesame (1960, Blue Note).
A bit soft for hard bop, but it has much of the sheen and flow
of those Herbie Hancock records where Hubbard subbed for Miles.
This one loses nothing in subbing McCoy Tyner for Hancock, and
gains a lot with Tina Brooks. A-

Adam Makowicz: The Music of Jerome Kern (1992,
Concord). He has a reputation for Tatumesque excess, but the
music here is so beguiling that the result is marvelously
tasteful. A-

Adam Makowicz: My Favorite Things: The Music of Richard
Rodgers (1993, Concord). More of the same, but not as
clear or sharp. B

The Modern Jazz Quartet at Music Inn, Volume 2: Guest Artist:
Sonny Rollins (1958, Atlantic). Pretty much what you'd
figure: the usual polite chamber jazz, which the guest artist
towers over like the saxophone colossus he is. B+

Van Morrison: Down the Road (2002, Universal).
One could pick on the occasional awkward turn of phrase, but
this sounds like a stone classic. A

Ken Peplowski: Mr. Gentle and Mr. Cool (1990,
Concord). As nice a slice of latterday mainstream as one could
hope for -- obvious material, impeccable accompaniment. I don't
know Peplowski well enough to take full measure of him, so I
may be erring on the side of caution here. B+

Roberto Rodriguez: El Danzon de Moises (2002, Tzadik).
Klezmer in its violin and clarinet, Cuban in its percussion, lovely
as background, engaging when you listen up. A-

Matthew Shipp String Trio: Expansion Power Release
(2001, Hatology). Dominated by Joe Maneri's violin, except for one
or two nice interludes merely punctuated by Shipp's piano, this
makes for difficult and demanding music, yet elicits attention
rather than wearing it out. B+

Bill Withers: The Best of Bill Withers: Lean on Me
(1971-84, Columbia/Legacy). Issued in 2000, this supersedes the
one called Lean on Me: The Best of Bill Withers. Not hard
to identify Withers' one undoubtable hit, is it? Christgau rated
Withers' first three albums as { A-, A, A }, and gave his 1975
The Best of Bill Withers an A-. Once again, the post-1975
material ranges from dull to syrupy. B

Eric Clapton & the Yardbirds: The Yardbird Years
(1963-65, Fuel). Clapton's legend in the Yardbirds was post facto:
the Yardbirds first hit is the last song here. Much of what precedes
it is negligible; the exceptions being three cuts from Five Live
Yardbirds ("Smokestack Lightning") and three cuts with Rice
Miller at the helm. B

Movie: Insomnia. Probably more fun in the original Norwegian:
at least the geography works there. (Is there really anywhere in Alaska above
the Arctic Circle where halibut are fished and people actually live?) B-